Ever since my fiance Arthur Hastings' first love, Mia Thompson, returned, he forbade me from keeping cats and became increasingly disgusted with both the cats and me.

On a stormy night, I was found bound and gagged in an abandoned building on the outskirts of town.

The kidnappers forced me to call Arthur. "Arthur, Cookie's cat food is running low. Please hurry to the alley on South Street and buy a bag."

But Arthur didn't notice anything unusual. He only yelled hysterically, "How many times have I told you not to keep cats! Mia is allergic to furry things! Don't you know why she was hospitalized? Why don't you have any sympathy?"

A delicate voice faintly echoed from the other end of the line. Before I could say anything else, the call was hung up.

The following day, bags printed with the words "Slaughterhouse" were thrown into trash cans all over the city, with one bag left in the trash can at the police station's entrance.

Arthur was urgently called back.

It took him three days and nights to piece together the body parts.

He didn't realize it was his fiancee, the woman he'd grown up with since childhood.

When Arthur arrived at the police station, he still had a few colorful ribbons wrapped around him.

"When was it discovered?" he asked.

"The sanitation worker found the first bag in the trash can at the entrance of our station. He thought it was pork and was going to take it home. Later, he realized something was wrong and brought it here."

"This is a direct challenge to the law!"

In addition to the bag found in the trash can at the police station's entrance, a dozen more bags of varying sizes were subsequently discovered and sent over.

Arthur frowned. It was a significant case, the likes of which had never been seen in the city before. The perpetrator's methods were ruthless.

"The damage is severe, piecing it together will be a challenge."

News of the incident spread like wildfire through Butterworth. City officials were furious and demanded a swift resolution to the case.

Caleb relayed their message, sighing heavily, "The whole city knows your capabilities, Arthur. The team has secured 72 hours for you, hoping for a quick result.

"Your wedding with Claire is just around the corner, and we're interrupting your leave. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

At the mention of my name, Arthur's eyes filled with disgust and contempt. "There's no way I'm marrying Claire Evans. Don't ever mention her name to me again!"

I floated nearby, my heart aching. I never thought I could still feel pain after death.

He changed after his first love returned, growing distant and cold towards me.

Then, when Mia was hospitalized, his disgust for me intensified.

He lost interest in our wedding preparations.

He even took an unprecedented leave of absence just to care for Mia, eating and sleeping at the hospital.

When I was kidnapped, I received a breakup text from him.

When my body was discovered, he was celebrating Mia's discharge from the hospital.

He didn't even want to break up with me face to face, seemingly discarding our childhood friendship along with our relationship.

If he knew the body he was about to piece together was mine, that I was the reason his celebration for Mia was interrupted, he would despise me even more.

Caleb was stunned for a moment, then chuckled, "We've all been there. Any misunderstandings can be cleared up if you talk it out."

"It's my fault for not understanding her well enough. She's manipulative and scheming, not at all what she seems."

When Arthur mentioned me, the anger and disgust in his eyes were unmistakable.

Before Caleb could say anything else, Arthur had already turned and entered the forensic lab.

While seventy-two hours might not be considered a challenge for Arthur, as he pieced together the clues, his frown deepened.

Both ring fingers were missing, and the remaining fingers had no usable fingerprints. Arthur sighed deeply at the corpse.

"The victim was approximately twenty-three to twenty-eight years old, female. There are multiple sharp force injuries throughout the body, about one hundred and eight minor wounds. The fatal wounds were two severe blows to the heart.

"Of all the body parts collected, two ring fingers are missing. The remaining fingers have residual highly corrosive liquid, making fingerprint identification difficult."

Caleb's brows furrowed. "This is absolutely inhumane! Such brutality! I swear I'll bring them to justice myself."

Arthur's face was filled with exhaustion as he added, "The method of killing is similar to ancient torture. Based on the condition of the wounds, it can be inferred that the perpetrator acted while the victim was conscious. It's equivalent to being flayed alive."

Upon hearing this, Caleb immediately rushed out of the forensic lab, ordering the officers to intensify the search and not let any suspect go quickly.

Such a dehumanizing method, coupled with the knowledge of how to delay police investigation, suggests the perpetrator likely has a criminal record.

The method even bears a striking resemblance to a case in Butterworth twenty years ago.

Arthur was indeed a professional in this regard.

From day to night, I went from struggling to despair. A rag was stuffed in my mouth, and wounds were continuously carved into my body. The pain washed over me as she wielded a craft knife, moving across my body like she was sculpting a piece of material.

With each cut, she would spray chili water on it, making me writhe in agony.

To delay the police, she put my hands into a smoking liquid. The intense burning sensation caused me to faint.

But she wasn't satisfied. She had someone splash me with cold water to wake me up and continue to torture me in different ways, but I still stared at her intently.

She ordered someone to strike my heart with a stone hammer, laughing eerily.

Only when she found that I was motionless and no longer breathing did she stop.

She then placed me on a rolling operating table.

I was in so much pain, so much pain...

Arthur frowned and picked up my hand to examine it closely.

My heart skipped a beat.

Did he recognize it?

On my eighteenth birthday, he gave me a bracelet.

It had both of our initials engraved on it.

He put it on my wrist.

My heart sank again.

How could he possibly recognize it?

That bracelet had been ripped off long ago. She said I didn't deserve it.

Now, aside from the prominent cuts on the wrists, there was nothing else to be seen.

This horrific method of operation led Arthur to the archives.

He skillfully found the file from twenty years ago among the shelves of case files.

[The Butterworth 8.16 Case.]

The previous group of perpetrators had been caught red-handed a month after the incident.

And my parents had sacrificed their lives in that arrest operation.

By the time their teammates arrived at the scene, my parents were already lying in a pool of blood, their bodies covered in countless minor cuts, fatal wounds, and blunt force trauma.

After that, I was taken to Arthur's house.

Back then, Arthur was like a big brother to me, comforting and caring for me, even giving me his most beloved toy.

Later, Arthur's father, Oscar Hastings, passed away, and the two of us were left to rely on each other.

When I fell ill with a high fever and talked nonsense in my dreams, calling for my parents, he stayed by my bedside day and night, taking care of me.

Later on, his first love, Mia, appeared, and he started to distance himself from me.

Then, when Mia moved in, she had an asthma attack as soon as she entered the house.

Arthur immediately blamed me and my cat.

I couldn't understand how twenty years of affection and trust could shatter instantly because of someone he had just met.

He questioned me, asking why I had treated Mia that way.

No matter how many times I explained, he wouldn't listen.

He was convinced that I was the cause of Mia's relapse.

We had initially planned to get married at the end of this year, but after that incident, he never mentioned it again.

The last time we spoke was when I was trying on wedding dresses. He said he was too busy to come.

"Check under her fingernails for DNA," Arthur said, placing my fingers in a bag and sending them to the lab.

I wanted to tell him.

"There is! There is! I left some behind!"

But no matter how many times I appeared in front of him, he passed right through me.

I drifted helplessly, tears soaking my cheeks once again. It turned out that even after death, people could still feel sadness and cry.

"Keep an eye on recent missing persons reports, especially those involving young women.

"Also, the blood samples have been sent to the city. Our equipment here is slower, but the results should be back in two days. Let Caleb know when he gets back. I have other matters to attend to, gotta go."

With that, Arthur took off his uniform and rushed into the pouring rain, heading towards the hospital.

"Arthur, has Claire been by to see you? Cookie's running out of cat food, and she usually brings some over," Amanda Morris called out.

Ever since Arthur wouldn't let me keep a cat at home, I've been keeping Cookie at Amanda's place.

Every week, I make sure to deliver cat food to Amanda's house on time.

Arthur's face darkened at Amanda's words. "I don't know, she hasn't come to find me!"

"Arthur, are you two having a fight? Claire usually answers her phone, and Cookie is her baby. Maybe you should give her a call and ask," Amanda suggested.

Amanda also lived in the police station dormitory.

She was a retired police officer and had watched Arthur and me grow up in this neighborhood.

She was like family to us.

I had actually bought a lot of cat food, but I couldn't deliver it anymore.

Cookie seemed to sense something was wrong and meowed at Arthur on the other end of the phone.

Arthur's expression grew more displeased, but he restrained himself because it was Amanda calling. "Claire and I have broken up," he said patiently. "I don't want to hear anything about her anymore."

"Was it because of Mia?"

Amanda had heard me mention her once before.

"What did Claire tell you?" Arthur's face darkened, his expression growing even uglier.

"Forget it, it doesn't matter what she said anymore, Amanda. I have something to do, goodbye."

With that, he hung up the phone and ran to a nearby flower shop.